neurodivergent, trans writer and parent. canadian. lover of nature, animals, mythology, travel, and knowledge. doing my best to feel comfortable inside this flesh vessel i call home.
i enjoy writing gay shit and torturing my protagonists.
i want to leave you. i don't really know how to talk about it: how to sit down in front of you to explain myself without completely losing the ability to speak at all. i feel like i'm not heard, or seen, or valued beyond someone who just cooks and cleans. i don't remember the last time i felt valued. most days, it feels like we're only still together out of convenience. there's no romance left, there's no affection. most nights, we don't even sleep in the same room. you fall asleep in the living room so often that when you come to bed, i feel like you're intruding. that's not fair. it was your bed first.
A Timeline of my Transition
Hi there! I'm Danny, a non-binary writer and parent. In 2022, I began microdosing testosterone. This means taking less than the standard dose of 50-100 mg weekly. A microdose or low dose of testosterone is considered to be around 20 mg weekly. There's not much research out there on microdosing and its effects on AFAB people, so I decided to write down my experiences for those who are considering doing it themselves, or just looking for more information.
Roscoe is messy. When she visits, Edith feels compelled to organize and tidy. When she visits, she never knocks. All he ever does is doodle, or nap. Downstairs, Isaac plays a game, and nods at her. Isaac is white, and not religious, but he's nice enough. The basement suite is small, with a single bathroom and a conjoined living and dining room. Once or twice, she's stopped by when nobody was home, and she watched movies until someone arrived. In his room, Roscoe sits at a desk, scribbling on a comic strip with a thick-leaded pencil. On the wall, there's a bulletin board filled with drawings and doodles. "Wow," she says, picking up an empty can from the dresser, "your room's messy."
Under the overhead light, a glow from the windshield illuminating her face, Edith shuts off the radio. She sits very close to him, smelling of lavender, holding her eyes steady. "You're so handsome." She murmurs, making herself comfortable on the passenger seat beside him. She's hypnotic, a fresh wave of warmth, parting his lips with hers so that heat fills his chest.
Don't Fall in Love With Me:
Oki Crow has always wanted to live off the grid. It’s a thought that came to him in his teens, after learning there was such a thing, he became obsessed with the idea. After college, perhaps, he can begin building his own home out of papercrete, on Raspberry Island, with his dogs and a boat. This would be the dream for him, and he’s already begun making it a reality. It’s easy enough to make papercrete, and it’s a great option if you’re on a budget. Oki has been saving up; he’s determined once he gets his mind set on something, and he hates being wasteful. Unfortunately, this opinion isn’t shared by much of the human race, and that’s why the planet is becoming uninhabitable. Oki doesn’t have a lot of goals in life. He doesn’t care to finish school, or to get a job, or to make friends. Living off the grid is his only desire, pretty much, and most people find this sad.